


All the Strings Attached

by amtrak12



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/F, Forgotten Marriage, cracky premise that will ultimately turn feelsy, like ya do with tropes, some background Toltzmann
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amtrak12/pseuds/amtrak12
Summary: During a standard background check, Homeland Security turned up an interesting yet long-forgotten certificate on Abby and Erin -- a marriage certificate.





	1. M-A-R-R-I-E-D

**Author's Note:**

> There is no logic in this premise so don't try to find it. I literally just wanted to write yatesbert actually being married this entire time because it entertains me and I love them XD

Abby's mind drew a blank at the words Agent Hawkins had just announced. "Come again?"

"Married," Agent Rorke answered instead. "M-A-R-R-I-E-D." He broke off and looked at Hawkins. "R-I-E-D? R-Y-E-D?"

"R-I-E-D. You had it right."

Rorke nodded and returned facing the team with a stony Homeland expression. Abby was still dumbfounded. She glanced over at Erin to find her looking just as lost.

"We're not..." Erin shook her head and gestured vaguely between her and Abby. "That's... Abby and I aren't _married_. That's ridiculous."

"We have a copy of your marriage certificate right here." Agent Hawkins held up a manila folder.

"What?" Abby snatched away the folder and opened it as Erin came to read over her shoulder. Inside was indeed a piece of paper claiming to be a marriage certificate. The names read Abby Yates and Erin Gilbert, signed and dated by both of them. "What?" she repeated.

"That's our names," Erin said. Now, Holtzmann and Patty came over to have a look. "But... how is that our names? We didn't sign that."

"Does that say '95?" Patty asked. "How did y'all get married in 1995?"

"We didn't," Abby said. She looked back up to the two never-cheery Homeland agents. "This has to be a mistake."

"On the contrary," Hawkins said, "that certificate is one hundred percent legitimate and legally binding -- or it once again became legally binding as of June 26th, 2015." Upon receiving blank looks from everyone, he added, "The day the Supreme Court ruled in favor of same-sex marriage."

"Yeah, we remember when that happened," Patty said.

"The real mistake, Ms. Yates," Agent Rorke cut in, "was you and Ms. Gilbert not informing us of your marrital status on your employment forms."

"We don't work for you," Erin argued. "Those forms were just a formality so we could get our funding."

"Oh, your funding's been suspended," Rorke said.

"What?" everyone shouted.

"You lied to the government," Hawkins said. "Now, we have to reinvestigate every piece of information you've submitted to ensure there weren't anymore discrepancies we initially overlooked."

"We didn't lie!" Abby said. "We were never married. This is... what, 1995? We were in college then!"

"Yeah, how could we have been married in college?" Erin said.

Agent Rorke shrugged. "My brother was married in college. So was my cousin."

"My cousin, too," Hawkins nodded.

Abby stared at the two of them. "That wasn't... really... the question, there." The Homeland agents began turning away for the door. "Hey wait!"

"If you remember any other information you left off your employment forms," Hawkins said, "I recommend calling us. Because we will find it one way or another."

"And you're not going to like what we do when we discover you've lied to us." Rorke didn't notice Hawkins shaking his head beside him and kept scolding, "So you better come clean now!"

"No," Hawkins said and guided him to the door. "No. We talked about this remember? About playing things cool?"

"That was cool."

"The calm version of cool." The two agents stepped outside and the firehouse door closed off the rest of their debate.

"Yeah, thanks for stopping by!" Abby yelled at the door. "And ruining our afternoon. Always fun fellas!"

"What just happened?" Erin asked. "We're married now? How can we be married? That's impossible. We didn't get married. That never happened."

"Whoa! Breathe girl," Patty interrupted. She reached out and rubbed her back. Erin looked seconds away from hyperventilating.

"We're not married," Abby reassured her. "This is just a misunderstanding. Someone found a document that looked like it had our names on it, or they falsified it even." She examined the copy of the marriage certificate in her hand. "Though, this really looks like our signatures."

Holtzmann leaned further over and dropped her chin onto Abby's shoulder. "Who's Kevin W. Crayton?" She pointed to the spot where the presiding minister had signed.

"I don't know, a judge I guess? But we never saw a judge for anyth-- Nooo." Faces and memories of college rushed over her. Things started to click into place.

"What?" Erin asked. "Did you remember a judge? Because I don't remember a judge or ever getting married. That's something I would remember."

"No, but you remember Kevin, right?" Abby continued when Erin only shook her head. "Kevin Crayton, yes you do. He was that tall kid, our year, was at school for engineering -- mechanical, I think. He was always hanging around us. Bought horoscopes from me for all of his D&D characters?" She looked at Patty and Holtzmann. "Seriously, this guy was a little too obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons. He basically paid for my books one semester."

"I have so many questions," Patty said.

Erin's eyes finally lit up with recognition. "Wait, that really weird kid with the glasses who liked to brag about owning a cape?"

"Oh my god, I forgot about that," Abby said. "He was really proud of that cape."

"You two know the irony of calling someone else weird, right?" Patty asked. "Cause I've seen your high school presentation now. Okay, I'm just saying."

"Yeah," Holtzmann said. "We should get them to perform it again."

"No," Patty said a little too quickly.

"What does Kevin Crayton have to do with this?" Erin asked.

Abby held out the marriage certificate. "He performed the ceremony."

"What?" Now, Erin snatched away the marriage certificate and scanned over its contents herself. "Stacey Simmons.... Wasn't she part of that D&D group too?"

"Maybe." Abby mainly remembered Stacey as the girl who always stole control of the television in the lounge. "She was definitely in the tabletop club with them. Why?"

"She's listed as one of the witnesses." Erin kept reading. "Along with a Joey... something. I can't make it out." She looked back up at Abby. "But why would the D&D club fake a marriage certificate for us? And how would that be something Homeland Security could -- ohh...."

"Yep." Abby nodded as she saw the memory coming back to Erin too. "Cause they didn't fake a marriage certificate for us."

"No," Erin said slowly, shaking her head. Abby just kept nodding. "No, it couldn't be that."

"Look at the date." Abby reached over and tapped the paper. "That was winter, sophomore year."

"We did that in January?" Erin said. "I thought we did it around midterms."

"Nope. Apparently, it was January."

"What did y'all do?" Patty asked.

"Then, why were we so burned out on work if it was the beginning of the semester?" Erin said.

"We were working pretty hard on the book that year," Abby pointed out. "You were at my house almost the entire winter break."

"Oh, yeah."

"Hey," Patty cut in. "Someone wanna fill Holtzy and me in? What'd you do with the D&D folks in college?"

"It wasn't with the D&D club," Erin said. "They were just around, or at least Kevin was. Why did we ever let him hang out with us? He was always so annoying."

"He paid me twenty bucks a pop for those horoscopes," Abby said. "That was good money, and you know it."

"I never liked him," Erin muttered.

Holtz moved away from Abby to bring up her phone. "Hey, Erin. Say you don't like Kevin again. I need to catch it on film."

"What? Why?"

"So I can play it back for you whenever you're staring at him too much."

Erin cocked her head with a glare. "That's a different Kevin."

She batted Holtz's phone away, but Holtz just brought it right back up. "Stop it!" This time when she pushed it down, Holtz kept it down, but she still gave Erin an eyeroll.

Patty sighed. "Abby?"

Abby picked up the explanation where Erin left off. "Sophomore year we got bored one night and thought it'd be fun to experiment with something we'd read about called blood bonds."

Patty blinked at her. "Somehow not what I was expecting there."

"Blood bonds are usually associated with pagan religions or practicing witches," Abby continued. "We came across them when we were researching souls."

"Actually," Erin said, perking up, "the ceremony we used in college was one specifically focused on souls and binding them together. Technically, Abby's soul can't move onto another plane of existence without mine."

"It's true." Abby nodded. "We thought it'd be handy. Also if one of us had died in a tragic accident, then their ghost would have to hang around this plane and bam! instant proof of ghosts."

"It was less creepy than it sounds," Erin reassured them. Neither Patty nor Holtzmann looked convinced.

"So did you guys, like, slice your hands and stick them together, then?" Patty asked, miming the actions with her own hands.

"No, of course not," Erin said. "Do you know how many nerve endings there are in your hand? It's a lot."

"We used our elbows instead." Abby pointed to her right one which, if memory served, was in fact the elbow she'd used for the ceremony back in college. For some reason, Patty looked more disturbed by this than if they had just used their hands.

"Were you guys possessed by demons?" Holtzmann asked, glancing between the two of them.

"No, it wasn't a demon possession ceremony," Erin said. "It was just a blood binding."

"And how did that make y'all married?" Patty asked.

"I don't know." Erin frowned. "I remember Kevin was hanging around our floor that night." The disgust in her voice prompted Holtz to pull back out her phone, and Abby knew she was still hoping to capture Erin cursing the name Kevin to lord over her.

"We told him about the blood binding," Abby added, "and he said it sounded like a wedding and then mentioned he was ordained."

"Yeah, but I don't think we believed him," Erin said. "Did we?"

Abby shrugged. "We liked the idea of having a certificate for the bond."

"Yeah, but this is like the real deal right here." Patty reached over and took the marriage certificate from Erin. "I mean, this is legit. You had to go to the county clerk's office to get this."

Abby met Erin's eyes. She looked just as confused as Abby felt. "I don't remember doing that," Abby admitted.

Erin shook her head. "Me neither."

"Well, somebody did," Patty said. "It's got all your information on it and y'all signed it, and then somebody filed it back with the county clerk for them two Homeland agents to dig up."

"Who would have filed it?" Abby said. "It was a piece of paper saying we did a blood bond. The county didn't need that."

"Usually the minister does it." Patty handed the certificate back to Erin who narrowed her eyes.

"Kevin."

"Excellent," Holtzmann said, phone raised. "Now, say you hate him."

"I do hate him. He must have turned this into the county without telling us." Erin growl. "I told you we shouldn't have been friends with him."

"I repeat, twenty bucks a pop," Abby said. "And he bought dozens of them. _Dozens_."

"Yeah, well, now he's costing us our funding. So, was selling a few horoscopes in college worth it?"

"Okay, we'll fix it." Abby shot Erin a stern look to tell her to calm down. "It's just a mistake. We'll get it cleared up."

"How?" Erin demanded.

Abby thought fast. "We'll call Jennifer Lynch. No funding, means more ghosts left running around the city, and the mayor won't be happy about that. She'll get the paperwork sorted with Homeland Security, and we'll have our funds back in no time."

\----

They did not get their funding back 'in no time'.

\----

"Married?" Jennifer Lynch said when she stopped by the firehouse the next day. "Well, there's a surprise twist. Good thing you didn't let that slip to the press. Can you imagine the backlash if the mayor's office was seen villifying a married lesbian couple? It would've been a nightmare."

"Oh..." Erin said. "We're not--"

"We're not actually married," Abby interrupted. "It was just this joke in college that's being taken a little too seriously now by Homeland Security. They've suspended our funding because they think we lied on our employment forms."

"Oh, I see." Lynch nodded. "Defying the sacred oath of marriage and calling gay marriage a joke -- yes, that could play out well in a press conference. It'd turn both the left wing and the right wing audiences against you at once. I'll have to keep that one in mind next time the public starts believing in ghosts again."

"Hey!" Patty said.

"You can't say that!" Abby glared.

"Yeah," Holtzmann chimed in. "We're all gay here."

"Wait, what?" Erin looked around. "No, no, we're not. I'm not. I'm straight. I like boys... men. Have you met our receptionist?"

"Don't listen to her. She hates him," Holtz said. "I have it on film."

"Good for you. It doesn't matter," Lynch said. She turned back to Abby and Erin. "Now, was there an actual question you had for me, or was this just a wedding announcement?"

"Can you get our funding back?" Abby said.

Lynch shook her head. "Oh no. No. The mayor's office doesn't interfere with Homeland Security affairs. No jurisdiction, you see."

"You put us in their department," Erin said.

"Exactly," Lynch smiled. "No jurisdiction, no connections to trace back to the Mayor's office." She checked her watch. "Now, if that's all ladies, I'm afraid I have to run. Important galas don't organize themselves, you know."

"That's not all!" Abby marched after her when Lynch moved towards the door. "We need that funding. How are we supposed to keep the city safe from ghosts if we can't buy any equipment?"

"I'd suggest you work with your new bosses. That's what they're for after all."

Jennifer Lynch opened the front door and then took a half step back like she remembered something. "Oh, but if you'd like the mayor to arrange a wedding reception as a little apology for how we twisted the media against you -- not to admit we were wrong or you were right, of course but more as a sign that we sympathize with you and still consider you human, if a tad misguided -- just call my office, okay? Bye ladies. Thanks for all your work!"

And then she was gone, and the door closed on their hopes of regaining their funding for the second time in as many days.

"This is a joke, right?" Erin turned to Abby. "We're going to wake up in a moment and learn this was all a big joke?"

"Nope," Abby said, staring at the closed door. Their funding was suspended until further notice, and there was a legally recognized certificate out there claiming she and Erin were married. This was definitely not a joke.

"Gala pal-a." Holtz snickered from where she was sitting back at her lab table. "Hey Patty, you wanna get married so the mayor will throw us a party?"

Patty shot her a look. "Man, can you be serious for two seconds?"

Holtzmann slumped back in her chair. Abby knew how she felt. The past two days had been filled with a never-ending stream of bad news and confusing revelations. It was starting to give her a headache.

She sighed. "I'll call Homeland Security again."


	2. The Evidence Says Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin and Abby react to news of their marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning in the last section for panic-induced vomiting and other mentions of being sick. No graphic descriptions or anything though.

Erin stared at the document in front of her. _'Certificate of Marriage -- issued by Washtenaw County, Michigan. This certifies that Abby Yates and Erin Gilbert were married on 22 January 1995'_ , followed by their signatures, the person overseeing the ceremony, and the witnesses. All written in ink, all printed on a sheet of embossed paper. It all looked so official -- scratch that. It _was_ official. She and Abby were officially married. That was legal. Erin just couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Yeah, I guess we'll just twiddle our thumbs while ghosts run rampant in New York City again," Abby snapped into the phone. "Thanks for nothing." She hung up with a huff and sat down next to Erin. "I guarantee you ghosts are a much bigger threat than whatever terrorists they think are out there, but are they making our background checks a priority so we can get our funding back? No."

Erin heard what she said, but didn't have a response. She kept her focus on the surreal, but entirely legal marriage certificate.

"What are you doing?" Abby asked. "You know staring at it won't make it disappear."

"I know." Erin frowned. "I'm trying to figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

"How this happened." She turned to Abby. "How did we end up married?"

"Some cape-wearing D&D nerd punked us, apparently," Abby said.

While technically an explanation of how, it wasn't the answer Erin was looking for. She'd meant it more in the rhetorical 'what powers in the universe collided to make this absurd thing happen' type of way. "But we're legally married now."

"It's not legal," Abby protested. "It's a piece of paper."

Erin furrowed her brow. "A piece of paper that's a legal document declaring that we are legally married by law."

"Okay, will you stop saying legal?" Abby said. "It's still just a piece of paper."

"That says you're my wife!" Erin's head spun with the declaration. Calling Abby her wife felt so abnormal, she had to take a breath to recenter herself.

"Is that what's bothering you?" Abby said. "I'm not your wife."

Hearing Abby say the words didn't sound any less strange than hearing herself say them. Her head still swam and her stomach still flipped. 'Abby was her wife' was a statement Erin never thought she'd hear. She certainly never thought it would be a statement that would be true, yet here they were.

"People think you are."

Abby huffed. "Only a handful of agents in Homeland Security. Nobody else knows about it. _We_ didn't even know about it until yesterday."

"But now we do," Erin argued.

"But nothing's different," Abby said. She pointed at the certificate. "That's still a piece of paper. We're still you and me. Nothing changed and everything's fine.... Except our funding, but we'll get that back. They just have to finish double-checking all of our documents."

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?" Erin asked.

"Because there's nothing to take seriously." Abby took the certificate and stuffed it back in the manila folder it had came in. "Just stop looking at it. Everything's the same."

Erin huffed in frustration as Abby took the folder to the other side of the lab and stuck it on top of a pile of books on the side of her desk. This _was_ serious. Why didn't Abby get that? Just because they hadn't known about the marriage certificate, it didn't make it any less real. That document was more binding than the blood ceremony they'd done. It would take legal action to get rid of it. They'd have to go to court and see a judge.

"Oh my god, we have to get a divorce."

"What?" Abby looked back at her.

"We have to get a divorce in order to undo the marriage," Erin said. "We'd both have a divorce on our records. I didn't want a divorce on my record." That was big reason she had never been married -- well, that and no one had ever asked her to marry them. But she'd seen so many people get divorced that she'd never hoped (much) for any of her past boyfriends to propose to her. She'd always had this nasty suspicion that any marriage of hers would be destined for divorce, so she'd just... shoved those hopes away. She couldn't get divorced if she didn't get married. She hadn't taken into account the idea she might have already been married all this time.

"Just stop thinking about it," Abby told her, and then she walked back to the containment chamber where Holtzmann was checking some settings.

\----

Erin stood no chance of following Abby's suggestion. Her brain wouldn't stop mulling over the situation. Every time she managed to push it away, her brain would tug it right back into her thoughts again until it was the only thing she could think about.

"If we're married, that means every time I dated someone, I was cheating on you."

"What?" Abby gave her an incredulous look. "No, it doesn't."

"How does it not?" Erin countered. "We're married. Dating someone when you're married is called cheating."

"We weren't even friends for most of that time," Abby said.

"It don't look like y'all were married for most of that time either," Patty said from her desk. She was working on her laptop. "It says Michigan banned same-sex marriages a few months after your blood-binding thing. No one would have recognized your marriage certificate as legal."

"Until the Supreme Court ruling in 2015," Erin said, repeating what the Homeland agents had told them.

"Are you researching marriage laws?" Abby asked, walking over to Patty and squinting at her screen.

"I still couldn't believe y'all got married in '95."

"Are you kidding me? God!" Abby huffed. "We have better things to do than worry about a marriage that didn't actually happen. Like getting our funding back and figuring out how to trap ghosts on a shoe-string budget again."

"Alright, was just curious," Patty said, edging the laptop away from Abby.

"That's actually helpful information Patty found," Erin spoke up. "If it wasn't legal for so long then can't we just argue that it shouldn't be legal now or that we tried to get it annulled but since the state didn't recognize it as a valid marriage, we couldn't or...?" She frowned. Her limited knowledge on divorce law had been tapped out.

"No, you know what we should do?" Abby said. "Our jobs. Look at Holtzmann. She's working. She's not thinking about marriages."

Holtzmann had, indeed, been quietly working at her lab table this entire time, though on what, Erin couldn't say. Sometimes it was a proton grenade, sometimes it was an unstable proton sword that looked like a lightsaber but blew up on impact, and sometimes it was only an extremely intricate and very expensive nutcracker.

"Actually," Holtzmann twisted in her chair to face the group, "I was thinking if one of you," she pointed to Abby and Erin, "were to end up in a coma in the hospital, the other would have spousal privileges -- you know, to visit and remove your oxygen, things of that nature. But if one of us," she pointed to herself and Patty, "ended up in a coma, no one would have spousal privileges. So, I'd like to propose a plan: Patty and I get married, and then we would all have spousal privileges. What do you say?"

The room sat in silence. Erin blinked. Then, blinked again. She checked over at Patty and Abby and was relieved to see the same stunned disbelief that she felt reflected in their expressions.

Abby shook her head. "Can everyone just go back to doing their jobs, please?" Then, she rounded the table and headed for the stairs.

"You know, it would be easier to concentrate on our jobs if I hadn't just been told I have a surprise wife, or if we had a plan for how to fix it," Erin called after her. Abby disappeared to the second floor without responding. Erin finished by muttering to herself, "I'm just saying." She rubbed her finger over a stray mark on the table even though it was a scratch and rubbing would be useless to remove it.

A wife. She had a wife. She had a wife, and her wife was Abby. Abby, her best friend Abby. They'd been married since college. She and Abby. Abby was her wife.

This seemed like the time in movies when the protagonist would get really drunk to forget about their problems.

\----

Abby could count on one hand the number of times she'd vomited in her adult life. It happened twice in college. The first time was playing sand volleyball in the dorm courtyard when someone spiked the ball too hard and nailed her right in the stomach. The second time was the one and only time she'd been sick from alcohol (and she would forever blame Erin for that Sunday spent puking in the dorm bathroom). Then, there was the stomach flu in grad school, then some other weird virus that only lasted for an afternoon, and then either the stomach flu again or food poisoning from an Italian take-out place (just to be safe, she never touched that restaurant or baked spaghetti again). This bout of panic-induced vomiting in the second floor bathroom of their new lab would make number six. Drat. Now, she'd have to use two hands to keep count.

Abby flushed the toilet and rinsed her face with cold water when she was done. She considered brushing her teeth, but the idea of sticking something in her mouth right then made her stomach clench again. She'd have to settle for a drink from the kitchenette on this floor... if she could make herself move from the bathroom. Her legs felt unsteady, but when she tried to brace herself against the counter, her arms shook worse. Abby closed her eyes and released a sigh.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself. "This isn't a big deal."

She'd hardly fought down a new wave of nausea when a knock came at the door. "Abby?" Holtzmann's voice filtered through the door. "Are you alright?" It brought to mind a hazy, slime-filled memory of the bathroom above a Chinese restaurant.

"Well, there's an unpleasant flashback," Abby said as she opened the door. Also just like the time she'd been possessed, Holtz was standing right on the edge of the threshold, her face no more than an inch from where the door had been.

"I'm fine," Abby said with more normalcy in her tone than she felt. "There wasn't a madman in the bathroom waiting to possess me this time. We're all good."

Holtz blinked as she processed this. "Okay." She continued to stand where she was and stare at Abby, though, which meant possession hadn't been on her mind when she'd knocked.

"Why were you looking for me? Do we have something to test?" Abby asked.

"No," Holtz said.

"Is the containment center threatening nuclear meltdown again?"

"No," Holtz said again.

Abby quirked a fake smile. "Just miss me?"

Holtz stared at her for a long second. "So, you and Erin are married."

The fake smile fell faster than Community's ratings in its second season. "You guys need to stop saying that. We're not married." She tilted her head back and leaned against the inside of the doorframe.

"The certificate says you are," Holtz said.

"It's just paper. What does it know?" Abby argued.

"Patty says you are."

"Patty--?" Abby turned her head to look at Holtzmann. She frowned. When had Holtz talked to Patty about this latest development? And why did Patty saying they were married somehow make it an irrefutable truth?

"The government thinks we're married, but we're not married," Abby said. She pushed by Holtzmann and stated heading towards the stairs.

Holtz spun and fell into step beside her. "But you like Erin."

She said it in that matter-of-fact, no-lilting-syllables way that she had of speaking. It made her jokes be delivered so deadpan, no one knew it was a joke. It masked her anxieties when she was confronted with uncomfortable social situations. When combined with those particular words, this tone also caused Abby's steps to falter, her heart to race, and her stomach to clench with another nauseating heave of panic.

"Wha-- I don't--" Abby paused a foot from the stairs. She regretted leaving the bathroom now. She was pretty sure her stomach had just discovered a whole new compartment it needed to clean out.

Holtz stared at her steadily, not to judge her or to drive home a point, Abby knew, but just because she was waiting for Abby to answer. Abby took a few deep breaths to ease the threat of being sick again. She couldn't easily deny having not-so-platonic feelings for Erin; she couldn't deny it to Holtz anyway. Even if her feelings hadn't been confessed to Holtz a couple years ago in a night of reminiscing after the first PKE meter prototype had been completed, Holtz still would have seen through the lie. She had a powerful nose that was equally adept at sniffing out bullshit as it was at sniffing out physical odors.

"There wasn't a real wedding," Abby finally said. "It can't be a real marriage if there wasn't a real wedding."

"Did you say 'I do'?" Holtz asked.

Abby sputtered. She wanted to deny it, but the thing of it was, there had been I do's exchanged. She'd remembered that last night as she lay awake trying to think of anything but this alleged marriage.

"Not... like, _wedding_ I do's. They meant something completely different."

"Intention is nine-tenths of the law," Holtz said.

Abby immediately lunged for the lifeline. "Exactly!"

"Actually, it's the hardest thing to prove," Holtz added. "I should know, I was in many disciplinary hearings as a grad student. If you said 'I do', you're married. That's how it works."

"But it wasn't a real wedding!" Abby sighed. This was a lost battle. Even Holtz couldn't see that this wasn't a real marriage. For some reason, everyone had taken crazy pills and were choosing to believe an ancient piece of paper she doesn't remember signing over the words she was saying now.

Her legs still felt weak and this standing around was harder to manage than walking. Abby braced herself against the wall and looked back up at Holtz. The moment they made eye contact, Holtz leaned forward and said:

"You like Erin."

"Erin doesn't like me back," Abby admitted quietly. "She's straight."

The space between Holtz's eyebrows pinched in. Her lips parted and she took in a breath. Abby interrupted before she could speak.

"And once again, no. Heterosexuality is not a myth."

Holtz continued to frown. "I haven't seen the evidence."

Abby closed her eyes and sighed again. Holtz's anti-heterosexuality remarks were amusing when they were tinkering with a project and had the freedom of being alone in the lab. They were like knives in her gut when paired with Erin and the decades-long struggle Abby's faced to keep her feelings from strangling her.

"I'm going to finish organizing the library." She walked off down the hall in the opposite directions of the stairs before Holtzmann could point out that the library had been unpacked and organized days ago.


	3. Being Married Means Being Stubborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin and Abby continue to disagree about being married. The team 'obtains' a new hearse.

Erin blinked to let her eyes adjust after the ghost trap snapped shut. The bar seemed dim after the bright arcs of proton beams. To her right, she could make out Abby getting to her knees from where the ghost had tossed her to the ground.

"Abby!" She rushed over to check on her. "Are you okay?" She tried to take Abby's arm to help her the rest of the way up, but Abby batted her away. 

"I'm fine."

There was glass in her collar and a small cut on her neck that negated that statement. Thankfully, the cut didn't look to be much deeper than a paper cut.

"You were thrown through a window," Erin said.

"It was not a window." Abby ducked away when Erin began brushing pieces of broken glass off her coveralls. "Stop that."

"I'm trying to get the glass off you. Stay still." Erin reached out again, and Abby knocked her hands away. 

"You don't have to do that."

Erin felt a flare of annoyance at Abby's stubbornness. "Okay, well, technically, you are my wife, and helping each other is a part of marriage."

Abby gave her a look of... disgust, possibly? It was hard to read, especially in the dim light. "That's why you're fussing over me so much?"

"That's not why," Erin argued.

Abby shook her head. "We're not really married, remember? You're taking a piece of paper way too seriously."

Erin really wanted to know which part of 'legally binding document' Abby didn't understand, but she had more pressing points to argue. "That's not why I'm concerned -- concerned, by the way, not fussing. You were thrown through a window!"

"It's not a big deal."

"How is that not a big deal?" Erin exclaimed.

Abby huffed and walked away without otherwise responding. As she directed Holtzmann and Patty towards the door, Erin raised her voice to call after her. "You know, you still have glass in your..." Abby left the bar with Holtzmann, and Erin trailed off, "... hair." She stared at the vacant door they'd left open.

"Yo, c'mon." Patty gestured to her. Erin nodded and trudged over, her feet crunching on bits of shattered glass.

A sharp blast of cold air hit her as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She sucked in a breath and crossed her arms over her chest, taking care to keep her hands burrowed in the fabric of her uniform. Fingerless gloves were not helpful against a New York winter. At least there wasn't any snow at the moment.

"Man, we have got to get a new car." Patty shivered beside her. The two of them started walking after Abby and Holtz towards the nearest subway station. "Make that two cars cause my uncle's still on my case about replacing his that I borrowed. I don't know how many times I can explain that it falling through the portal means I can't get it back."

"That was a normal amount of concern back there, right?" Erin asked. Patty gave her a look, and she realized she'd interrupted. "Sorry. What about your uncle?"

"Nah, it's fine," Patty said, still side-eyeing her. "Go ahead."

Erin sighed. "Abby thinks I'm being over-concerned about her well-being because we're married, but she seems to not realize she was just thrown through a window. My concern is completely justified."

"Is it still a window when it's inside like that?" Patty asked.

"It was a sheet of glass you could see through," Erin said. "That counts as a window."

"She seems fine." Patty shrugged.

Erin peered ahead to where Abby was walking and listening to something Holtzmann was saying. A pedestrian barreled out of a shop without looking first, and Abby reached over to tug Holtz out of the way. Erin watched the daylight reflect off a stray shard of glass still stuck in her hair. She crossed her arms tighter.

"I know that. I was just trying to help her earlier -- and it's not because we're married."

"Married. Man, I still can't believe that," Patty said. "How'd you get married in 1995? In _Michigan_?"

"Why'd you say Michigan like that?" Erin asked.

"Because that's like one of them conservative states," Patty said, "even if it is in the north. That's like getting married to a woman in Missouri. Or Indiana. Now, that's a state I'm never going to."

"Michigan isn't that conservative," Erin countered. Patty fixed her with another look, and Erin considered how her parents still lower their voices before speaking the words 'homosexual' and 'gay'. "Okay, you may have a point. And I have no idea how we got married. I have no memory of ever getting a marriage license or doing a wedding ceremony. All I remember is cutting your elbow hurts a lot more than people claim."

Patty snorted. Then, she tapped Erin's arm. "Hey, since y'all are married, do you think we can convince the Mayor to buy us a new hearse as a wedding present?"

Erin tilted her head. "Well, they did offer to throw us a reception."

The sound of a person whistling interrupted this line of thought. They both looked ahead to where Holtz had stopped on the sidewalk.

"Hello, gorgeous." Holtzmann walked over to the fenced-in lot they'd been walking by and put her hands to the links.

"Man, Holtzy, we're freezing," Patty called to her. "This ain't no time to go diving into dumpsters."

"I entirely disagree," Holtz said. Then, she pointed into the lot. "But that beautiful piece of machinery, my dear Patty, is no dumpster."

Erin frowned. They walked over to join Holtzmann at the fence.

"It's an impound lot," she said, taking in the lines of towed cars.

"It's a ride," Holtzmann contradicted.

"We don't have a car in the impound lot," Erin said.

"Sure we do. We've got that one."

Erin twisted her head to try to follow the path Holtzmann was pointing down. She saw plenty of cars but couldn't see anything even remotely recognizable as one of theirs. As far as she knew, none of them owned any car.

"Look at that, it's a hearse!" Abby exclaimed and pointed also. Now, Erin could see it. There, tucked four rows back from the entrance, was an old, black hearse looking even more aged from the thick layer of road salt covering its sides.

"That looks like some old Buick." Patty shook her head. "Ain't no way my uncle will accept that. He's a Cadillac man, only."

"Totally work aroundable," Holtzmann said and disappeared from the fence before Erin could point out that wasn't a word.

"Holtzy!"

"Where is she going?" Erin asked.

"To haggle," Abby said. Erin glanced over to her and confirmed the smile she'd heard in her voice.

"Haggle for what, the car? It's not even ours." She watched Holtz stride over to the booth at the gate and tap on the window for the guard's attention.

"I always knew that girl was foolish," Patty said. "You don't haggle with the impound guards. Them folk don't mess around."

"Don't worry, she's good at this," Abby said with a hint of pride in her voice. Her eyes stayed on Holtzmann and whatever cajoling, bribery, and outright lying was going on right then, but Erin found herself staring at Abby. That feeling that dressed itself up as a close cousin of jealousy had settled over her chest. It was the same feeling she'd felt each time Abby had done her secret handshake with Holtzmann or when Holtzmann had stepped into the middle of their argument at Aldridge Mansion to check on Abby. Erin wasn't sure why it was popping up now. She and Abby were friends again, and everything was good between them. Though, they were also married, as they had now learned. Abby was her wife. Maybe that _was_ changing how she looked at her. Maybe it was making her more protective? Or possessive even? But, no, best friends showed concern for each other's well-being too, and they could be jealous when the other person had a new friend. That's why the saying 'two's company, three's a crowd' existed. Being married wasn't making Erin act any differently. If anything, it was Abby who was acting differently now, given how snappish she was being.

Holtzmann's voice cut through her thoughts. "Hey, Abby! Come show the nice lady some I.D."

Abby walked over to the booth as Erin frowned. "She doesn't carry any I.D?"

"Don't ask," Patty asked in a voice that suggested she'd already discovered this particular quirk of Holtzmann's in one of the least convenient ways possible. Erin idly wondered what situation they had been in for Patty to discover this, but her mind got stuck on the concept of I.D's instead. That was something she hadn't considered yet. Did she have to get her driver's license changed now that she was married? No, right? There wasn't a marital status section on a driver's license. Hers would only need to be changed if her name had changed, and it clearly hadn't. Both she and Abby had signed the marriage certificate with their own last names.

"You're gonna burn a hole in Abby's head if you keep staring like that," Patty said.

Erin blinked and let the world come back into focus. "I feel like I should have a ring if I was married."

"Nah, who needs a ring when you can swap god-knows-what kind of infections through your matching cuts."

Erin turned and stared up at Patty. Patty shrugged. "You did it. Not me."

They were interrupted again, this time by the electronic gate sliding open and Abby whooping.

"Come on!" She waved to Erin and Patty.

"You got it?" Erin asked.

They followed Abby and Holtz into the lot and over to the hearse. While Holtz unlocked the back hatch, Erin asked, "How did you convince the guard to let us take this?"

Holtz shrugged up her shoulders and gave a long, "Meehh."

"We're stealing it," Erin interpreted.

"Not stealing," Abby said. "It's been here for weeks unclaimed. Another two days and it would've been sent to the scrap yard."

"Yeah, we're liberating it," Holtz added. "Besides, I paid good money to free this baby."

"What money?" Patty demanded.

Erin unhooked her proton pack and slid it into the back of the hearse. "I just hope it has a working heater."

She turned around only to run right into Abby who'd been moving in. "Ooph, sorry." She regained her bearings and then took a sidestep out of the way. "Here, go ahead."

Abby gave her a questioning stare.

"What?" Erin asked. She felt her defensiveness rise up. "I'm not moving out of the way because we're married. This is normal politeness. Just like that was normal concern after you got thrown through a window."

"It was a room divider," Abby argued.

"Made up of window panes. Glass window panes."

"Thin glass. I didn't even feel it."

"You have a cut on your neck."

"That I didn't feel!"

"Yo!" Patty interrupted before Erin could form her retort. "Some of us can't feel our fingers no more."

"Yeah guys, we should really get moving," Holtzmann said. "I didn't exactly pay with one hundred percent cash."

"I knew you didn't have money on you," Patty said.

"There was a twenty," Holtzmann insisted. Then, she grimaced. "And a few pizza coupons... and a Doritos wrapper... turned inside out."

Erin rolled her eyes as Patty muttered something under her breath.

"Load 'em up!" Abby ordered and shut the hatch. Erin slid into the backseat beside Patty.

As Holtz started up the engine, she used the rear-view mirror to look into the backseat. "I hope you weren't marrying me for my money, there, Pats."

"Baby, I know you keep proposing," Patty said, "but I don't remember saying yes to nothing."

"Oopsie," Holtz answered, though her eyes were now directed out her side window. "I think she found the Dorito bag."

Erin arched out of her seat to see through Patty's window. The impound guard had left her booth and was walking their way.

"Floor it!" Abby ordered.

Holtz snapped the car into gear and pushed the gas pedal down, what must have indeed been, all the way to the floor. Erin gripped the bottom of her seat and cringed when she heard the proton packs free-sliding across the back and slamming into the sides of the car. _Please don't blow up. Please don't blow up,_ she thought as they whipped by the guard and exited the lot. Holtz and Abby just cheered as they flew down the street.

\----

If Erin had ever tried to define marriage to herself, she would have described it as a partnership with someone who adored her and would take care of her and would even laugh with her and not at her. Someone she might have been able to trust with her deepest secrets and who wouldn't have judged her. Someone who would care enough to call if they couldn't be with her that day, and who might even go out to events and places with her whenever she saw a flyer that caught her eye. She might have gone so far as to describe this partner as a best friend, though that term had always been reserved for just one person. Her definition would not have included a wedding ceremony she couldn't remember. It certainly wouldn't have included Homeland Security in any capacity. It also wouldn't have included a spouse who refused to acknowledge the reality of their marriage.

Erin stepped into the first floor lab space. No one else was in the area. Abby was upstairs searching for the logo stencil Holtzmann had used on their first vehicle. Patty and Holtz were in the garage area installing proper equipment racks and restraints in the back of the newly washed hearse, and Kevin hadn't come in that day at all citing his 'no work on Wednesdays' stipulation (it was Thursday). Erin took advantage of being alone in the space and crossed over to Abby's desk. The folder Homeland Security had given them last week was still sitting on top of some books. She held open the top and peered down at the marriage certificate inside.

_'This certifies that Abby Yates and Erin Gilbert were married on 22 January 1995'._ The words hadn't changed since she'd last viewed them, and yet she still read them over again and then a third time. _'This certifies that Abby Yates and Erin Gilbert were married on 22 January 1995'_

If marriage was impossible because she could never find the right guy, then how had she ended up still married? And to Abby, no less -- her best friend, yes, but also, you know, a girl. Patty was right, how had they managed that in 1995?

"I thought I told you to stop looking at that," came Abby's voice from behind her.

Erin let the folder fall closed and turned around. "Did you ever think about getting married someday?"

Abby stared at her for a moment. Then, she averted her gaze and moved to a workbench. "Not really, no."

"Of course you didn't," Erin said, feeling an all-too familiar disappointment settle over her. "You never even liked to date." 

Abby paused in her search through a drawer. "When did I ever say I didn't like to date?"

"You never dated anyone in school," Erin pointed out. "Or liked to talk about dating." It was the one area they had lacked in their otherwise stellar friendship: discussing crushes or romantic relationships. Anytime Erin had tried to seek out advice or to celebrate when a boy actually asked her out, Abby had refused to talk about it. It had always baffled her because friends talked about romantic relationships. If Abby had ever had a crush on someone, Erin would have happily talked about it with her. She had never understood why Abby would refuse to do the same.

"I never dated anyone that you know of."

Erin felt jarred. "What? Who did you date?" She desperately wracked her mind for the names of any guys in their physics classes who had had crushes on Abby.

"No one," Abby said. "I'm just pointing out that a lack of evidence for something does not automatically rule out the possibility of that thing happening. Remember, that's how others overlooked the existence of ghosts."

Typical stubborn Abby. Erin sighed in annoyance (and also relief that Abby hadn't kept something as large as dating someone a secret from her). "Look, I'm not trying to start a fight with you. This whole us being married for over twenty years thing is confusing. That's all."

"Why?"

"Why?" Erin waved her hands in front of her. "Because we're married. You and me. How are you not confused about that?"

"Is anything different?" Abby asked.

"Other than the fact that we're married," Erin said.

"With the team," Abby clarified. "Is anything different there? Is anything different with the work? Is anything different with you and me?"

Erin held her arms folded over her chest. "Our funding is still suspended, so technically that's different."

"No, nothing's different," Abby said. "Does anything need to be different?"

"Probably."

"Why?"

"Because we're married!" Erin stared hard at her. "You and me, we're married. That isn't just some piece of paper we signed, Abby. That isn't playing around with some pagan ritual we found in a book. Somehow you and I got married, and that's... I don't even know what that is."

"It's nothing," Abby said. She sounded like she was pleading with her, probably to let the matter go, but Erin couldn't.

"It's not nothing." She shook her head. "Getting thrown through a glass room divider earlier--"

"You said divider." Abby pointed at her.

"You might be able to brush that off and call it nothing," Erin continued. "But _this_? Married? That's not nothing."

Abby's shoulders slumped.

"What do you want?"

Erin hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted. "Like I said, this is just really confusing, but... can we maybe start by taking it seriously?"

Abby didn't answer for a long moment. She stared at the workbench and, with her thumb, rolled a screwdriver in place against the tabletop.

"Fine," she finally said and looked back up at Erin. "We're married. You happy?"

Her tone was off: cold and distant even as she was obviously still present in this conversation. It made Erin feel wrong, like they'd gone from a tense discussion to a full-on argument where she was at fault.

"Okay," she said, not knowing what else she was meant to say.

"Okay," Abby said. Then, she added, "But you know it doesn't change anything, so... just let it go." She walked off back towards where the hearse was parked.

Erin stayed where she was and tried to absorb what had just happened. Abby had admitted they were married, but to no real result. 'You know it doesn't change anything' -- _but it does, Abby. It does._ Being married changed everything.

Erin turned around and watched Abby join in on the modifications to the hearse. Okay, fine. If Abby was going to continue to be stubborn, then Erin would be stubborn too. They were legally married, so that's how Erin was going to treat them going forward. And maybe then she could actually make Abby talk about this.


	4. Competitive Ghost Wives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Erin get competitive, the team deals with an irate client, and Homeland does what they do best: fuck shit up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to apologize for the two month delay between chapters, but actually, with all that went on during those months (the appreciation weeks, the first month of my track season) and given my terrible track record with WIPs, two months to produce a 7500 word chapter is actually pretty damn good for me. So WHOOO \0/ Unfortunately, it'll probably be another couple months for the next one because I'm still in the middle of coaching middle schoolers :/ Ugh. Only 28 more days until freedom.

Abby never would have admitted to avoiding Erin, but with some skillful maneuvering and a steady stream of busts calling for their attention, she managed to avoid Erin nonetheless and never conversed with her one-on-one during the days following their last confrontation. She just couldn't take another pointless go-around about their only-technically-legal marriage. If nothing was going to come of it, then it didn't matter. Case closed.

Unfortunately, Homeland Security seemed to side with Erin on things. They barged into the lab without warning one day (without even knocking) and immediately claimed control of the place. 

"This is an interrogation," Agent Rorke said. "We will be calling you upstairs one at a time."

Abby groaned. Nobody would let this marriage thing die. Why couldn't they let it die?

"You can't go upstairs," she tried arguing. "We have dangerous equipment up there. You need clearance."

"Or a warrant maybe," Patty said. "What the hell are we being interrogated for?"

"Just some routine questions we need to clear up," Agent Hawkins said. "Consider it the same as a spot inspection." He turned to Erin who had the misfortune of standing closest to him. "You first."

"Wait, what?" Erin shot Abby a look as she was ushered towards the stairs.

"Hey, I still haven't seen a warrant!" Abby yelled after them, but the agents disappeared with Erin too quickly. Just breeze in, breeze out. That was apparently how Homeland did things.

"That makes no sense," Patty said. "How is an interrogation the same as a spot inspection?"

Abby shook her head.

\---

Whatever this visit was about, Homeland kept Erin upstairs far longer than Abby had expected. She was about ready to pace the floors by the time Erin came back down.

"Hey, what happened?" Abby sat up from the table and moved to meet Erin halfway.

"Yates!" Agent Rorke yelled from the stairs.

Abby ignored him and kept her eyes on Erin. "Everything good? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Erin shrugged. She looked worn out but not haunted. "It was fine."

"Yates! Let's go." Rorke repeated.

Abby rolled her eyes as she finally walked over. "Ooo, what is this a pop quiz? Can't talk to the other students in case they share answers?" She glared at Rorke as she passed him on the stairs. Rorke broke his stony facade to glare back, and Abby had the strong urge to stick her tongue out at him.

On the second floor, Abby discovered Homeland had taken over a table in the study and had even moved some of her energy crystals off to the side of the room. She frowned. "Your mothers taught you it wasn't polite to touch other people's things, right?"

"Sit," Hawkins instructed. Abby sat in the chair across the table from where the agents were sitting. She didn't remember the study having this many chairs, so they must have commandeered them too from somewhere.

"Let's try to keep this on topic this time."

"Why?" Abby eyed Hawkins. "Did Erin get off topic? What did she say?"

"What Ms Gilbert said isn't relevant. This interview is focused on you."

Now, that wasn't suspicious at all. What were they trying to do, see if her and Erin's answers matched? Was this some sort of interview to prove they weren't really married after Homeland went through all trouble to upend their lives and say that they were? Couldn't these guys ever make up their minds?

"Your name is Abigail Lynn Yates, correct?" Hawkins began.

Abby wrinkled her nose. "I just wrote 'L' on the form."

"We got Lynn from your birth certificate."

"Why did you look up my birth certificate?" Abby asked. "The form asked for my middle initial. I gave you my middle initial."

"We have to be thorough," Rorke said. He shuffled some papers around on the table without any purpose that Abby could discern. It seemed mainly for show. "Now, can you confirm your marital status?"

Abby let out a sigh. "Married. By a technicality and an astrology customer who liked to play pranks."

"To Erin Gilbert?"

"Yes." _Here we go._ "So what comes next, is this where you dig into our personal lives? Try to ask us questions to trip us up? Like, what time does Erin get up in the morning? It's 6:05. Yes, oh-five, because somehow those extra five minutes make her believe she's not getting up at the crack of dawn every morning. Do you need to know how she takes her coffee too? Black like her soul."

Hawkins and Rorke both stared blankly at her.

"No, I'm kidding," Abby admitted. "She drinks it with cream and sugar, and it's just to get the caffeine. She would rather have one of those mint chocolate mochas or caramel frappacino things."

Rorke dropped his pencil on the table and let it roll off onto the floor. "When we get back to the office, I'm requesting another assignment," he told Hawkins.

"No, you're not."

"I'm doing it. I can't take this anymore."

"It's fine."

"They never listen to us. Nobody ever listens to us."

"It's fine," Hawkins repeated more firmly.

"It's not fine!" Rorke directed his attention back to Abby and leaned over the table. "For the last time, you are not involved in a green card marriage. We are not immigration agents. Why do you people not understand that?" His face was flushed and every muscle strained like he was just a hair's width away from flipping the entire table over.

"Wow." Abby leaned back in her seat to create some distance. Of course, this wasn't a green card marriage. She was born in Indiana.

"As we told your wife," Hawkins explained. Abby managed not to visibly cringe at the phrasing. "This interview is just to go over your answers on the employment forms you submitted, line by line. We have no current interest in the details of your relationship with Ms. Gilbert outside of your marital status."

"So, this is not about our marriage at all?" Abby said.

"No."

Abby nodded. "You know, you should really inform people of that up front. Then, we wouldn't have these kinds of misunderstandings."

Rorke looked ready for another outburst, but Hawkins held out his arm to stop him.

"Let's just continue."

\---

Abby's shoulders sagged in relief when she was finally released. That chat with Homeland had been tense even if it had just been a rehashing of what she'd already submitted on her forms. Hopefully, this set of interviews would be the end of it, and they would finally get their lab funding.

"Next!" Rorke shouted from directly behind her as they returned to the main floor. Abby flinched from the volume, but not as badly as Holtzmann flinched. There was a soldering gun on the table that was nearly sent toppling to the floor.

"I got you." Patty squeezed Holtz on the shoulder and walked over to the stairs. She gave Agent Rorke a nod. "Let's do this."

Abby gave her a five for good luck as they passed each other. Then, she joined Erin and Holtz at the lab table.

Erin was frowning. "Holtz, are you okay?"

Holtz definitely still looked tense. Her gaze was locked on the stairs.

"It's fine." Abby reached over and tapped the back of her hand, uncertain if more contact would be welcomed right now. "They're just going over the stuff you submitted on the employment forms. They're not asking anything new."

Holtz nodded, but Abby knew it would be awhile before she could actually relax again.

"I actually kind of thought they were asking about our married life," Erin admitted.

"Yes, me too." Abby gestured. "They should really be more clear on what their questions are about." She remembered what Rorke had said during his outburst. "Did you think this was a green card marriage?"

"No," Erin said with exasperation. "Did they tell you I thought that? I know it's not a green card marriage, obviously, and I never thought it was. They just need to be more clear with their questions, like you said."

Holtz was starting to refocus on the conversation rather than the interviewing going on upstairs. She looked Erin over. "Are you sure you're not Canadian?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Erin rolled her eyes.

"People do like to say the Upper Peninsula is Canada," Abby said just to needle her a bit.

"I was born in Lansing," Erin insisted. "That is nowhere near the Upper Peninsula _or_ Canada."

Holtz continued to side-eye her. "Isn't all of Michigan in Canada?"

Abby smothered a smile while Erin glared at Holtzmann.

"It's too bad, really," Abby said. "I bet we would have nailed a green card interview."

The annoyance slipped away from Erin's expression. "We do know each other pretty well."

Abby nodded. "I bet I would have won, though."

"Won what?" Erin asked.

"The interview on who knows each other better."

"I don't think that's a competition," Erin said. "I thought those interviews were just to prove you know each other well enough to be married."

"I bet I still would have won, though," Abby insisted. "I could answer any question about you. Anything at all."

"Are you trying to challenge me to some personal trivia contest?"

Her competitive drive sparked to life. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm doing. Let's do this. Let's see who can list more facts about the other."

"Oh." Erin chuckled. "Wow, okay. I used to go over to your house practically every day after school. I spent more weekends at your place than I did at my own. My parents even tried to fight with me about it."

"Doesn't mean you know me better," Abby said. "Look, I'll even let you go first."

"Okay. Okay." Erin squared her shoulders and nodded as her own competitiveness visibly settled behind her eyes. "For starters, you made your own Mothman action figure when you were ten because one didn't exist in the stores."

"Mothy." Holtzmann perked up. "He's so frightening; I love him. She still has him in her apartment."

"Look, the toy companies refused to tap into that unclaimed market so I had to take matters into my own hands." Abby thought for a second and was annoyed at the first fact that came to mind. Unfortunately, her memory refused to pull up another one, and she was forced to say it. "You had your first kiss when we were freshmen in college."

Erin frowned. "Well, you didn't get your driver's license until you were eighteen."

"Because I didn't need it."

"Yes, because I drove us around all the time," Erin said.

"You were the one who had a car." Abby snapped her fingers. "Speaking of, it's impossible for you to listen to the radio without singing along."

"It's not impossible," Erin countered. "I can listen to the radio without singing."

Abby pointed to Holtzmann, and Holtz took her cue. "Abby has eight mixtapes, and each one features you singing along in the background to every song." She leaned forward for emphasis. "Every song."

Erin looked at Abby. "You still have those?"

Abby shrugged. "Sure, I do."

"Okay, well, speaking of music. You own every Salt-N-Peppa album."

"Everyone does. That's just a fact of life," Abby said. She was on a roll now and had no trouble pulling another fact. "Your favorite Disney movie as a kid was Cinderella."

"I wanted little talking animal friends for myself." Erin folded her arms over her chest.

"Nice. I liked The Lion King," Holtzmann said. Emphasizing every syllable, she continued, "Hakuna Matata. Mufasa. See? They're fun to say."

Erin re-squared her shoulders. "You're impossible to wake up in the morning," she told 

Abby. "Your alarm goes off at least four times, six on the weekends."

Abby shook her head. "You don't know that's still true. We haven't roomed together in years. I might actually be good at getting up in the mornings now."

Holtzmann leaned closer and said quietly, "But you aren't." Unfortunately, she didn't say it quietly enough. Erin heard and cocked her head in a smug smile. Abby pointed at her and then shot Holtzmann a look.

"That smugness is on you."

Holtz twisted her mouth down in an 'oops' gesture.

Abby turned her attention back to Erin. "Fine, you've always wanted to be able to play the piano."

"Oh!" Erin's face flashed with excitement. "I actually took a piano class a few years back." 

Her shoulders fell. "I was terrible at it."

"Ah." Abby frowned in sympathy. "Well, maybe you can try another class sometime."

"Yeah. Oh, your birthday is October third." She smiled like this was actually impressive information for her to know.

"And you saw a ghost when you were eight." Abby threw up her hands. "Come on, you can't use the obvious stuff."

"Fine, then, your nephew was born in 1996. Oh!" Erin tapped on the table. "In March, because it was before spring break."

"Which nephew?" Abby countered.

Erin rolled her eyes. "Your only nephew born in 1996."

Abby shook her head. "I'm going to need a name. I have four nephews now. Eight when you add in my nieces."

"You have eight nieces and nephews?" Erin said. "When did that happen? How?"

"Well, Stephanie had a second kid a few years later. Mike got married and now has three kids, and Ethan also has three, but I have this weird feeling he's going to end up with more."

"Shut--" Erin lowered her voice and leaned forward. "--the fuck up. Ethan has three kids?"

"Yeah. His oldest turns seven in September."

"How is that even possible?" Erin said. "He was ten when I last saw him."

"He was twelve when you left," Abby corrected. "Actually, he's the same age as Holtzmann."

"Yeah, and you know I have kids," Holtzmann said. "Four of them, plus a lot of little pets running around the lab."

Erin shot Holtz an impatient look. "The ghostbusting equipment doesn't count as children."

"What?" Holtzmann gaped. "I'm telling them you said that."

"Next!" came a shout. They all jumped. Abby realized Agent Rorke was standing at the bottom of the stairs and Patty was returning to the room. She looked about as beleaguered as Abby had felt after her own interrogation.

"Ms. Holtzmann. Any day now," Rorke said.

Abby scrunched up her nose. _Ms_. Holtzmann? God, did that sound wrong.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine, Holtzy," Patty said as she reached the group. "The questions are easy."

"Yeah, it's okay," Abby added.

There was an insistent poking at Abby's side as Holtzmann didn't move her eyes off of the Homeland agent. "Come be my attorney."

"You betcha." Abby fell into step beside her, and shot Rorke a firm look as they passed him.

"Legal counsel," she said, pointing to Holtzmann. He rolled his eyes, but still allowed them both up the stairs. Just before she was out of earshot, she heard Erin ask if Patty had known Abby's little brother had three kids of his own. "How would I have known that?" Patty shot back. Abby smiled to herself. She'd totally just won the contest of who knew each other better.

///

"I just don't understand it," Erin said days later. They were in an apartment that had the misfortune of sitting along the same ley line Rowan had triggered at the Stonebrook Theater. The place had been haunted by a real nasty piece of work that they had just spent the better part of an hour wrestling with, but they'd finally won. The ghost was safely tucked away in the trap now.

"I mean," Erin straightened the coffee table as she talked, "I used to help you babysit him. How does he have three kids?"

"Erin, are you alright?" Patty asked.

Erin paused in her cleaning efforts and took stock of her limbs and torso. "Yeah, I'm good. The slime missed me this time."

"No, it's just you've been going on about Abby's brother all week," Patty said. "Are you sure you're good? You're not feeling down or going through a midlife crisis or something?"

"No." Erin shifted her feet in a clear sign she was feeling self-conscious. "It's just weird to think about. I'm trying to wrap my head around how he's an adult now instead of the little kid I knew."

_You could try not disappearing for eighteen years_ , Abby thought. _Then, maybe it wouldn't be so weird._ Out loud, she simply said, "No, you wanna know what's really weird? My nephew is in his second year of college. Now, that's weird."

She stepped into the hallway and yelled that it was all clear to the apartment's resident who had called them in. A moment later Mr. Niedzwiecki entered the living room.

"What the hell did you do?!" he said after taking one look at the room.

"Yeah," Holtz said slowly while surveying the damage. "The ghost put up a bit of a fight."

"But," Abby quickly jumped in, "nothing was broken -- permanently. It just knocked some things over. But we successfully trapped the ghost, and it won't be bothering you again."

Her attempt at reassuring Mr. Niedzwiecki failed. His face only grew redder as he shouted again.

"Look at this mess! I told you I have people coming over here tomorrow."

"Oh, we can help you pick everything up before we go," Patty offered.

"And how does that help my damn carpet?" Mr. Niedzwiecki jabbed his finger at the floor in front of the TV that sported a rather large puddle of ectoplasm. "Do you know how much work that's going to take to get out?"

"Try getting it out of your hair," Erin piped in. "Now, there's a real challenge."

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?"

His outburst immediately prompted Erin to take a full step back and Patty to murmur 'Whoa'. Abby frowned while Mr. Niedzwiecki continued ranting.

"I told you upfront I needed this place kept clean! And what the hell do you do? You track this fucking slime all through my house."

"You knew about the slime," Abby argued. How could this guy actually be pissed at them right now? They'd gotten rid of his ghost.

"Like hell I did!" Mr. Niedzwiecki turned on her. "Nobody mentioned I'd be getting slime trekked through my carpets when I called you about a ghost. I thought you were professional exterminators."

"Actually we're scientists," Erin said, "and government contractors, although the contract hasn't been officially signed yet."

The man looked poised to erupt, but Abby was spitting mad herself and beat him to the punch.

"You called us, remember?" she said. "You said 'help I'm haunted by a ghost'. You even specifically mentioned ectoplasmic residue."

"The hell I did! Are you putting words in my mouth now?"

Abby lunged forward, undecided if she was going to throttle the guy or just continue shouting back at him, but Erin held her back.

"Sorry," she said, and Abby glared at her for apologizing to this jerk. Erin ignored her and continued on, "What my wife means is you mentioned on the phone that the ghost left behind slime when it appeared. So we're a little confused as to why the slime is such a surprise to you now."

"That slime was in the bathroom." Mr. Niedzwiecki pointed to a door on his right as he continued to speak far too loudly to be polite. Abby figured his neighbors must hate him. "It was never on my carpets." 

"Seriously?" Patty said. Abby had to agree. This guy was clearly a nutjob.

"I would've been better off leaving the ghost where it was," Mr Niedzwiecki continued. "At least then my floor wouldn't have been ruined."

Holtzmann gave a slow look down to the ghost trap in her hand and then shook her head. "I don't think you're gonna want this back."

"Okay, Mr. Niedzwiecki," Patty stepped forward. "I understand you're upset right now."

"You're damn right I'm upset!"

Patty held up her hands. "I hear you. You weren't expecting this kind of mess."

"It was a ghost," Abby cut in. "It's not like we were busting a roomba."

"Abby, it's okay. We're good." Erin held her arm with a force that Abby realized was meant to be pushing her towards the door. She shot her a confused look.

"We're not cleaning his carpet." She struggled against Erin's persistence.

"I know, but Patty has this. Let's just go."

Abby huffed and gave in to Erin's prodding. In the doorway, though, she paused to shout over her shoulder. "If you don't want a mess, maybe next time get haunted by the Pine Sol lady or that bald guy on the paper towels."

"The Brawny paper towel guy isn't bald," Erin said, pushing her out the door.

"Then, who am I thinking of?"

"Mr. Clean."

Taking the stairs back down to the main floor, Abby huffed again. "Can you believe that guy complaining about his carpet?"

Erin cringed. "I know. I'm having flashbacks to that summer my parents made me get a job at TJ-Maxx." She suddenly stopped Abby on the landing. "We should never hand out coupons for this."

"Coupons for what?" Abby said. "Nobody pays us for this anyway. That's what Homeland is supposed to be for."

"I know, but if we ever did charge a fee, we should never offer coupons," Erin said. "Trust me."

"Okay, no coupons," Abby readily agreed. She had no arguments prepared either way on the issue of coupons because she'd never considered charging people a fee to remove ghosts, but mostly she'd agreed in order to move away from Erin. Her heart was racing for reasons she couldn't identify now that they were out of the apartment, and Erin standing that close to her wasn't helping.

"How many fights on the subway do you think Patty has had to break up?" Erin asked when they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Traffic had picked up along this street, and down at the next intersection, someone honked as one too many cars tried to finish a left turn on a red light.

"I don't know," Abby said, still distracted by the heart racing and fluttering going on in her chest. "I bet she was good at it, though. She fought off Rowan pretty well."

Erin continued chatting as they loaded their proton packs into the back of the car and waited for Patty and Holtzmann to come out. Abby watched her but didn't listen. The fluttering grew worse each time Erin made eye contact with her, and Abby couldn't figure out why. What was it about Erin that had Abby feeling so off-kilter?

It struck her what Erin had said earlier, after the words finally worked their way past the angry resident filter. She gripped the edges of her pockets and pivoted to face Erin directly.

"You called me your wife."

"What?" Erin's brow pinched in confusion. "Oh, you mean inside?"

"Yeah," Abby said. "Why did you say that?"

"Well, it is true, technically."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that." Abby shifted on her feet. "I mean, it's one thing to say it to me. It's another thing to say it to some random person."

Erin's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry. It just slipped out. I guess because I've been thinking about it a lot still. It's fresh on my mind?"

Fresh enough for Erin to subconsciously call Abby her wife when she was talking to a complete stranger? Abby wondered how much Erin had been thinking about this matter.

She didn't get to dig into it any further just then as Holtzmann and Patty suddenly emerged from the apartment building.

"Hey guys," Holtz announced. "Patty has a superpower."

"I'm telling you talking people down is not a superpower," Patty said. "It's just a skill you pick up when you deal with temperamental customers all day."

"Superpower," Holtzmann countered. "You're a wordsmith. You make the words do the thing that make the people do the thing, you know?"

They both walked around to load their equipment in the back of the car while Erin frowned.

"No," she said. "What things are you guys talking about?"

"Silver-tongue, convincing people that you're right," Holtzmann clarified.

"I don't know that I did much convincing in there," Patty said as she slipped off her proton pack. "More like promising." Looking over to Abby and Erin, she added, "Hey, is it cool if I promised that Homeland would come by and clean that guy's carpet?"

"Absolutely," Abby said at the same time Erin answered with "Oh, yes."

"Cool." Patty nodded. "I thought so."

Abby noticed Holtz had stopped loading the car in favor of gazing up at Patty. She'd seen Holtzmann wear dozens of expressions in the years they've been friends, but the stars-in-her-eyes expression Holtz was currently sporting was always one of her favorites. The look was a rare occurrence requiring someone truly special to Holtz, and it meant different things depending on the person inspiring it: I admire you, I thought I was the only one who spoke that language, I am so goddamn wonderfully happy you're in my life. In Patty's case, the stars seemed in line with 'you're literally an angel with no wings'.

Her interpretation was confirmed with Holtzmann's next words.

"A superpowered, silver-tongued angel." Her tone matched the look in her eyes. "Your cape should have glitter on it."

Patty chuckled and shook her head. Abby thought she looked flustered, though she was admittedly not the best judge of these things. She hid a smirk and glanced away. Her eyes landed on Erin who was frowning and staring off into space. Abby's brow furrowed, and she nudged Erin's side for her attention.

"Alright," Patty was saying, "if my superpower is calming people down, then your superpower is obviously knowing how any machine works. Like, you take one look at it and you just know."

Holtzmann considered this. "That's flattering. I like it."

Abby tapped on Erin again. "Hey."

"Huh?" Erin finally looked over at her.

"What's wrong?" Abby asked.

"Oh." Erin shook her head. "Nothing, sorry. I was trying to figure out what our superpowers would be."

Amusement and relief came out with her next exhale. Erin's frown was one of distraction not irritation. "Well, yours is easy," she said. "It'd be visualizing equations and manipulating numbers."

Erin frowned again. "That's a skill not a superpower."

"Not the way you do it." Abby let her think this over and walked around to the passenger side of the car. She'd intended to sit in the front seat like she always did but she found Holtzmann holding the door open and directing Patty into the front with over-dramatic, butler-style gestures. After Patty had climbed in, Holtz caught Abby's eye. She gave a slow, confused blink and glanced between the front door and Abby. Abby just grinned and climbed into the backseat.

Erin was already putting on her seatbelt and continued the conversation as Abby slid in beside her. "Okay, so math is my superpower. Then, what's yours?"

Teleportation was always her go-to answer when asked what superpower she would want, but this game seemed based on existing skillsets. "I don't know. Maybe I could actually see the different planes of existence all stacked on top of each other and flip between them like on a viewset. Oh!" She reached for Erin's arm. "I could finally see fairies which I know exist. You and the authors of _Paranormal Entities for a New Millennium_ can all fight me on that."

Erin didn't respond. Instead, she took on a fond smile and a distanced look in her eye as if she was seeing something more than merely Abby sitting beside her in the backseat debating superpowers. It was like she was looking at something special. The fluttering returned to Abby's chest, and for a second she even stopped breathing.

"No, it's faith," Erin said. "Your superpower would be faith."

//

Abby had recognized she had a crush on Erin the first time she'd invited Erin over to her house. There had been a pause, her heart had raced, and then Erin had blessed her with a wide smile and a yes. From the not-so-unpleasant way her stomach had twisted, Abby had known she was sunk. Over the following hours, she'd run the gamut from agonized to thrilled and had thoroughly dissected the situation. In the end, everything romantic she'd felt for Erin had been locked up in a box and shoved into a vault where it wouldn't interfere with this new friendship.

Those feelings had stayed, more or less, in that locked box for the last twenty-six years. There'd been modifications -- the box had grown into a room, bricks and layers had been added to the walls, and more locks and chains had been added to the outer vault -- as her feelings had grown and changed and made the occasional rogue escapes. None of the walls, of course, had stopped her distaste from bleeding through whenever Erin showed interest in a guy, but the concept of the box had stayed firm. No matter what she felt, her relationship with Erin was platonic. Her other feelings weren't going to jeopardize that. There was so much else they could be doing; they had so much work left to accomplish. There was not a single reason why she needed to worry about dating Erin.

Maybe locking away her romantic feelings for Erin had also locked away her interest in other romantic relationships, but that was something for her sister and the dozen or so women from failed dates to debate. It wasn't Abby's concern. She had always been perfectly happy focusing on her research and investigating the paranormal. Whatever loneliness she'd felt had been eased the day Holtzmann had joined her lab. They'd became fast friends and partners. Holtzmann understood and cared about the work. She wasn't dismissive of any ideas and quickly picked up on the paranormal stuff she didn't know already. She was also brilliant and funny and within a month of working together, had gleefully declared them both lesbian ghosthunters. Who needed a romance when you had all of that?

Still Abby _had_ published hers and Erin's old book _with_ Erin's name on it, a fact her mother had been ready to point out when she'd called to announce the book's first sale. Granted, she'd largely done it to lecture Abby about intellectual properties and creator rights and getting permission first and blah, blah, blah, but even just a hint at subconscious implications behind her choices had been enough to send Abby's mind reeling. Had she wanted Erin to see the book? Had she been trying to get her attention? Was that why she had left Erin's name on the book?

Trying for it or not, Abby had certainly gotten Erin's attention. She'd gotten Erin's attention all the way down to the lab at Higgins, even, and then there'd been ghosts, and then she-and-Holtzmann had become she-and-Holtzmann-and-Erin-and-Patty, and they'd saved New York City, and....

Abby had been the one to remove Erin from the romance box, but Erin had removed herself from the friend box. When she'd come back, Abby hadn't paid much attention to which boxes Erin was opening up and staking claim to. She'd been too distracted by Rowan's chaos and too thrilled to have her friend back. She'd assumed things were the same as ever with Erin: best friends, obsessive research partners, minor annoyance at Erin's continual interest in men. She'd thought everything was exactly the same as they'd been in college before Erin left.

Yet here she was, stomach twisting in a wholly frightening way, all because Erin had smiled that smile at her and had gotten that look in her eyes, the one that seemed so much more specific than happiness and suggested something so different than friendship. Had absence crumbled the dividing walls between her romantic and platonic feelings? Had Erin done something new her walls couldn't hold against? Or did this all stem from Homeland Security and their surprising announcement that she and Erin were legally married? Abby liked placing the blame on Homeland. They'd been completely inept at handling ghosts and now were holding up their funding over nitpicky clerical issues. It seemed perfectly reasonable to blame them for this too.

She was still convincing herself everything was Homeland's fault when the team returned from the lab and nearly missed Kevin calling to her as she passed his desk.

"What did you ask?" Abby stopped and turned back to face him.

Kevin twirled a rubber band ball in his hands. "I asked what you call your mom."

Of all the inane questions.... "Uh, I call her Mom."

"Ah-ha, 'Mom'." Kevin grinned. "That's cute."

Patty gave her an arched eyebrow as she walked by. Abby refrained from responding with an eyeroll since Kevin was still looking at her.

"Why did you ask?"

"Oh." Kevin dropped the rubber band ball once against the desk. "Because your 'Mom' called and left a message. She said you have something important to tell her."

"You mean, she has something important to tell me?"

Kevin frowned. "No, I don't think so. She didn't mention it."

"Okay, well, are you sure it was my mom who called?" Abby asked, pulling out her cell phone.

"Definitely." Kevin gave an affirmative head nod.

At least he could confirm that much. Maybe he was getting better at taking messages. Abby was bringing up her list of contacts when Kevin called out again.

"Oh, Boss."

"Yeah?" Abby looked up.

"Sorry," Kevin said. "Other Boss." He pointed in Erin's direction who paused in pulling her change of clothes out of her locker to point at herself.

"Oh, me?"

"Yeah, there was a message for you too." Kevin said. He winked. "I even wrote it down for you, just like you asked."

"Oh," Erin smiled and walked over to his desk. "Well, that was very responsible." Her smile faded, though, as instead of handing over a piece of paper, Kevin searched around his empty desk mumbling 'where did I put it'.

Abby patted Erin's shoulder in sympathy. "Baby steps," she said. Then, she moved upstairs where it was quieter to call her mother back.

"Hey, Mom," she said when her mother answered.

"There's my successful physicist," her mother greeted her. "That Kevin said you were out fighting slime guppies. I assume he meant fighting ghosts?"

Abby couldn't even begin to guess what slime guppies was supposed to be. "Yeah, it was a ghost. It was in some guy's apartment."

"Everything go well?"

"Oh yeah, the ghost was easy." Abby settled onto the library couch. "But then the apartment owner came back mad because we got slime in his carpets. It's like, buddy. You called about a ghost haunting your apartment, so we came and trapped it for you. What more do you want from us?"

"Some people are just that way," her mother said. "Anything else going on?"

"Not yet. We just got back." Abby thought for a moment. "Holtz is almost ready to test the ecto-bomb."

"And what does that do again?"

"Okay, you know how ghosts use ectoplasm to manifest and become solid enough to grab objects?" Abby explained. "The ecto-bomb will disrupt that and keep them less tangible and, in theory, less dangerous. The ghost can't hurt you if it can't grab you."

"It certainly sounds useful. And I assume you're thoroughly testing this cutting-edge and highly experimental equipment before putting it to use in the field, right?"

_Uhhhh...._ "Sure. Of course, we are," Abby managed to say without too long of a hesitation. Her mother still heard the pause, though.

"Uh huh."

"What did you want to tell me earlier?" Abby quickly changed the subject.

"Tell you? I didn't have anything to tell you."

"Kevin said you did."

"No, but you have something to tell me by the sounds of it."

Abby frowned. "You mean Kevin actually got your message right?" She glanced in confusion towards the doorway. That didn't happen often. "But I don't have anything to tell you."

"Really? Well, why don't you instead explain why Homeland Security felt the need to call me today."

"What?" Abby sat up straighter. "Homeland called you? What did those robots want?"

"I'm not sure. They just asked me a bunch of questions and wanted me to confirm some basic things like your name and your birthday and your address, where you went to school." There was a pause. "What year you got married to Erin Gilbert."

Abby flipped from irritated to drained. "Oh, no."

"Which I had to admit to them I didn't know," her mother continued. "Because as far as I knew, you weren't married to anyone."

"Oh, no," Abby groaned.

"Care to fill me in on how I missed such an important detail in your life?" her mother said. "And did that Homeland agent really say 1995 or did I mishear? It's hard to tell on these new phones."

"Okay, look," Abby started. "I have no idea what happened. There was this guy in our differential equations class and he wore a cape and he was great for my astrology business but was otherwise fairly annoying and he thought our blood binding experiment sounded like a wedding ceremony and apparently he really was ordained. He wasn't making that up like how he made up that he was a black belt in both karate and judo. And--"

"Abby," her mother cut in. "I can't understand what you're saying. I take it you two didn't know you were married, either?"

"No. Homeland just shows up one day with a certificate in a folder saying we're married and that we lied on our paperwork, so now our funding's on hold." A new thought struck Abby. "Oh shiiii.....taki mushrooms, mother of horse manure."

"What the hell was that supposed to be?" her mother said, but Abby didn't pay her any attention.

"Do you think they called Erin's parents too?"

Now, it was her mother's turn to pause. "I think it's likely if they called your dad and me."

"Fuck." Abby's eyes fell closed. Ugh, damn Homeland. Why can't they stick with their jobs instead of interfering with everyone's lives? Everyone would be a lot happier for it, Homeland included, probably.

"How bad is it if Erin's parents know about the marriage?" Her mother's voice had switched into her no-nonsense problem-solving tone.

"I don't know," Abby said, "but Erin's going to freak out. I can't believe they called you guys!"

"We don't know for sure they called Erin's parents today," her mother said. "They might not call them until tomorrow or later in the week. Are they going to be upset you two are married? Is it because you're both women or because you were married without them knowing about it?"

" _We_ didn't know about it," Abby reiterated.

"Do you think I need to call over there tomorrow and talk to them?"

A shout grabbed Abby's attention away from the phone.

"Abby!" It was Erin's voice followed by rapid footsteps up the stairs. "Abby! We have a problem. A bi-i-iig problem."

Abby pulled the phone back to speak. "I have to go. They did call Erin's parents."

"Oh, dear. How's Erin? Was there a fight? Do you need anything?"

"Mom, I love you, but you're going to have to do your ally stuff later. I gotta go." She hung up the phone just as Erin burst into the doorway. "They called your parents too, didn't they?" she asked her.

Erin blinked in confusion as she'd been ready to announce the problem she'd been shouting about. "Who...? Yes, Homeland Security called my parents. They told them that we're married!"

"I know," Abby said. "They called my parents, too."

"What, why would they do that? Why?"

Abby threw her hands up in the air. "Because they're still butt-hurt it was us who took down Rowan and they have an authority-complex? I don't know."

"But--" Erin floundered as she looked on the edge of hyperventilating. "They called our parents!"

Abby cringed. "Were they mad? Am I uninvited for dinner next time I'm in town?"

"They're...." Erin paused. "Confused. And awfully curious as to how I got myself married out of the blue which is a good question actually because I can't even keep a boyfriend long enough to introduce them to him, so how did I end up married?"

"Through a huge misunderstanding with an astrology obsessed D&D nerd," Abby said. "Did you tell them about the cape? Because I feel like that would clear up a lot of things."

"No," Erin said. "No, I did not tell them about the cape."

"But you told them this is just a mix-up, right? That we weren't keeping secrets from them because we had no knowledge of any marriage licenses or certificates or wedding ceremonies until Homeland showed up last week?"

"Mmmm." Erin's eye twitched as she failed to answer.

"Erin?" Abby prompted.

"Some... of that... might have been said, yes," Erin finally replied.

Abby's stomach dropped. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Erin insisted. "I told them we didn't remember getting married, and they... interpreted that as we were drunk."

"What?" Abby said.

"And possibly in Vegas? I'm not sure."

"What?" She was going to kill Erin. "Your parents think we got drunk-married in Vegas? Like in The Hangover?"

"No." Erin held up her finger. "No one said The Hangover. What Happens in Vegas with Ashton Kutcher may have come up, but no one said The Hangover."

"Erin, I don't want your parents thinking we got drunk-married," Abby hissed.

"What was I supposed to do?" Erin asked. "Tell them the truth, that we did a soul-binding in college while some guy got us to sign a marriage certificate?"

Abby stared. "Yes."

"No way." Erin shook her head. She started listing off with her fingers. "We did a pagan ritual to bind our souls together for all of eternity using drops of our blood. The only thing higher on my parents' list of reasons to institutionalize someone is... well, seeing ghosts, actually. And doing both?" Erin did a humorless laugh. "No, no way. They do not need to know about that."

Abby sighed as she remembered her own mom's list of rules she'd lectured her with as a kid. "Yeah, my mom's not going to be happy about that blood part either. But there were no human or animal sacrifices, and we weren't summoning any demons. I maintain we did nothing wrong."

"Okay, then _you_ can try explaining that to my parents," Erin said.

"Gladly. I'll call them right now." Abby held up her phone. "Give me their number."

"Oh." Erin seemed to switch gears. "Uh, actually, my parents want to speak with us in person."

"Oh." Abby stopped. "About our marriage? Okay." Erin's parents were coming to New York, wow. Abby tried to process this. "Um, that's, that's good. They haven't seen the lab yet, so we could show them around."

"Show them around this lab?" Erin pointed at the floor. "You do remember that our last visitor to our lab died a horrible and gruesome death, right?"

"Well, I kinda figured you weren't going to sic a ghost on your parents."

"Oh... kay," Erin said. "First of all, I did not 'sic' a ghost on Dr. Heiss. I released a ghost in front of him as he requested."

Angrily releasing a ghost sure seemed a lot like siccing to Abby. "I think that point can be debated."

"Well, it doesn't matter," Erin said. "There's still way too much radiation and dangerous equipment around for me to risk bringing my parents here."

"So, we'll take them around the city, instead," Abby offered. "We can try and find an appropriate restaurant for discussing how we accidentally got married twenty years ago while experimenting with blood rituals. Hey, we can ask Patty for recommendations."

"Oh, she might know of something," Erin agreed. "But I was actually thinking we could -- and this is just a suggestion -- but maybe instead of my parents coming here, we could go to Michigan?"

"Okay," Abby said slowly. She'd have to check their calendar for an appropriate time. Was it even possible for them to get away right now? There were still a ton of ghosts lingering throughout the city, and the stuff with Homeland wasn't resolved yet.

"This weekend maybe?" Erin continued. "Like... I... sort of already agreed to?"

Abby huffed. "Erin!"

"I know, I'm sorry!" Erin cringed and brought her hands up near her face. "It was a very tense conversation. I panicked."

"Clearly." Abby took a deep breath to force her own slice of panic down. "You know what, it's fine. It's fine. We'll just go to Michigan. I'm sure my parents will want to see us too."

"Okay. Okay, good." Erin's shoulders relaxed as she nodded. "We're going to Michigan."

"Going to Michigan," Abby repeated. "This weekend."

"Yes."

They looked at each other.

"So," Abby said, "we should probably book some plane tickets."

"Mmm, yeah."

Abby nodded, and they both moved to locate a laptop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on the Yatesbert Marriage network: Michigan and bed-sharing and parents, oh my! :P


End file.
